


Evolution (A Revolution Story)

by WonderlandWriter13



Category: Revolution (TV)
Genre: Action/Adventure, Alternate Universe - Science Fiction, Betrayal, Family Drama, Manipulation
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-29
Updated: 2020-08-29
Packaged: 2021-03-06 16:13:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,943
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26171752
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WonderlandWriter13/pseuds/WonderlandWriter13
Summary: Charlie never expected to watch her father die and lose her brother in the same day.Miles hoped that he could die in peace, bottle in his hand with the past forgotten.Monroe vowed that the betrayal of his best friend would not stop his plans.Family secrets, lies and terrible revelations bring the three together in a struggle for power and revenge leading to choices that could reshape their world for good.
Comments: 2
Kudos: 13





	1. Hurry Up and Wait

**Charlotte Matheson:**

She hated waiting. He knew as much and did what she knew he could but it wasn't enough anymore. It had been six long months doing what Charlie felt was nothing. Monroe updated her on the search every night and every night she felt no closer. Six months was long enough and it was about time she told him that.

She ignored the guards that stood outside the conference room. Charlie walked straight past them and opened the double doors to the long room beyond.

Nine men clothed in uniform stared at her with surprise and irritation.

The ninth man was directly across from her, on the opposite side of the long table. He set aside a glass of alcohol and looked at her warily.

"Charlotte," He began. She knew he used her full name because she disliked it which meant she had clearly upset him.

 _Good._ Charlie thought.

"What did I say about interrupting my meetings?" Monroe asked carefully. He slowly rose to his feet and placed his fingers lightly on the map before him.

Charlie crossed her arms. "In cases of emergencies I can." She countered.

The man glanced around the room at his Lieutenants. "And what is the emergency?" Monroe asked, his tone light.

"It's a private matter."

He sighed and looked at her with consideration. She stared back, doing her best to convey the message that she wouldn't leave until they spoke. Finally he rose to his full height. "I'm sorry for the intrusion gentleman. We'll continue first thing in the morning."

The eight other men showed varying signs of relief and relaxation. Charlie knew it wasn't often they got a night off.

The man closest to him stood first. "Until tomorrow General. "

The rest nodded and gathered their effects. Charlie didn't bother moving out of the doorway as they walked past to leave.

Finally the doors closed behind them.

Monroe sighed deeply. "What is this about?"

"What do you think it's about?" Charlie walked up to the table and briefly studied the contents. Scattered correspondence, maps and coded messages. Nothing particularly interesting. "I know you have your people working on this but I'm tired of sitting back and not doing anything myself."

She didn't need to look at his face to know the expression he wore. "Charlie-"

"I've had enough training. Worrying about my brother everyday and hoping that he's still alive is exhausting." She blinked at the papers on the table. "I need to be out there. All I need is a horse and supplies and-"

"You're not ready."

The worry shrank back in the sudden presence of her anger. "What?" She demanded, looking up from the table.

Monroe watched her, unaffected by her reaction. "You're not ready." He repeated seriously.

She felt the heat of anger intensify. "What the hell do you mean I'm not ready?! I've take down every one of your men here! You've taught me everything, I can handle myself!"

"You think so?" He shot back. "Are you ready to kill?"

"I've done it before." Charlie hissed.

"Once." Monroe snapped. "And while you're a good fighter, you're not good enough to go up against Miles."

Miles. The name stoked the flames of her anger. There was no one she hated more. No one she wanted to hurt as badly as him.

"I'll never know if I don't try."

Monroe made his way around the table. "Can you beat me?"

She glared at him. She had never really tried to. They had sparred many times but they had never fought to win before.

Charlie glanced at the sword at his side. He never went anywhere without it.

Her hand went to the steel at her own belt. "If I do, will you let me go?"

He shook his head. "You have to beat me first. But I already know you can't."

Before she thought the action through Charlie ripped her sword from the sheath and swung. There was a harsh crash as her sword met his and she tried to pull her anger into her movements.

Before she could make her next attack however, Monroe was making his own. He moved with ferocious speed and strength, leaving no time for Charlie to think as she defended.

His left? **Clang.** He pushed her back. His legs? **Crash.** She barely recovered from his response.

"Can you even disarm me?" He called over the noise of the swords.

She grit her teeth and shifted around the room, putting the large fireplace to her back. Aware of the flames growing closer she made it her goal to out maneuver him. Charlie swung as quickly as she could, seeking to get him on the defensive. She spared one more step back before lunging for his sword arm. 

Her hand clamped down on Monroe's sleeve, and Charlie side stepped as she pulled him towards the fireplace. She felt a flicker of success as he barreled straight towards the flames but it was short lived. 

He caught himself at the last moment, crouching low to regain his balance. Before she could fall into a defensive stance he turned. Rising, the sword seemed to spring from the ground as he slipped it in the inside of her arm and twisted. 

There was a loud clatter as Charlie's sword slipped from her hand and she gasped with pain. He twisted her arm and held the blade at her throat. 

Monroe glared down at her. "If I was Miles-"

"I'd be dead." She snapped and wrenched herself free. Breathing heavily with anger and stinging pain Charlie snatched her sword from the floor. "Remind me why you care again?" She asked scathingly.

"You _know_ what he did to me." Monroe said with a measured tone.

Charlie waved his words away. " _Yes_ I know. He betrayed you, tried to kill you. I've heard it a thousand times." She glared at him. "But why help me?"

He sheathed his sword. "You're mother was a friend of mine-"

"I don't remember you ever being around her." She said shaking her head. Her memories of her childhood had always been vague and distant but Charlie felt that she would know if she had seen Sebastian Monroe before. Especially when she considered how little she saw her Uncle Miles, Monroe's best friend.

Monroe laughed. "Charlotte. I'm sure you don't need me to remind you how little your mother was around when you were young? I don't believe we ever saw each other."

She inhaled sharply at his words. "You know, for a while I thought you wanted to use me against Miles somehow but clearly I'm not strong enough for that." Charlie shrugged, trying to detach herself from her emotions. "It's a waste of your resources to keep searching for Danny and a waste of your time to keep training me."

"That's not it." He insisted, coming to her side. " _None_ of this is a waste. What Miles did to you is unforgivable. What sort of leader- _protector_ would I be if I let him get away with it?" Monroe placed a hand on her shoulder. "When I heard what happened and saw you...I saw myself the day I realized that my best friend tried to kill me."

"So it's pity then?" Her words were quiet. 

"No." He shook his head. "I understand what you feel. I know what you seek better than anyone else." 

"Revenge." She breathed.

Monroe nodded. "Revenge."

"Well..." Charlie took a shaky breath. "Why do you think Danny is still alive? I mean...it-it doesn't make sense for Miles to keep him this long."

He withdrew his hand and turned away from her. "The reason Miles killed your father was because he wanted information from him."

Charlie frowned at this. "But, if he wanted information why kill him?"

The General faced her. "Because he didn't have what Miles needed."

Charlie blinked, letting the unsaid words sink in. "Wait...he think _Danny_ knows something? Why? What is he even looking for?"

"That, I don't know." Monroe said regretfully. "All I know is that Miles values the information above anything else."

"Above even his own family." She said the words without thinking. It wasn't like they had been close. In fact, Charlie and Danny hadn't seen their Uncle since before the Blackout but she felt that even then, someone should never kill their own brother. It wasn't right.

"Above friendship, family..." The General placed his hands on the table again. "He threw everything away for no reason I can understand."

Charlie shook her head. "It just makes no sense. Danny doesn't know anything."

Monroe looked at her sharply. "Are you sure?"

"Of course! We tell each other _everything_. We have never lied to each other."

He frowned, clearly troubled. "Then I really don't know what it could be." 

Charlie scuffed her boot across the floor. "I'm sick of this waiting."

Monroe raised his head and considered her. "Before the Blackout, when I was in the military, we had a saying."

She glanced at him, mildly interested in the change of subject. Life before the Blackout always seemed make believe to her even though she could remember the time herself. When someone told stories of their life before Charlie couldn't help her curiosity. "What was it?"

He smiled warily at her. "Hurry up and wait. We had to be on time for everything, only on time usually meant hours before anything happened at all."

Charlie sank into the nearest chair. "So you're saying we have to wait for Miles to do something before we can find him?"

Monroe lifted his hands from the table. "Maybe. Most likely, as much as I hate to admit it. Unfortunately he knows how my Militia works which makes him that much harder to catch."

"Well isn't there _something_ I can do?" 

"Actually, there is." He replied. "I was going to tell you _after_ my meeting."

Charlie raised her brows expectantly. 

"I'm sending a group of men on a scouting mission to the Southern boarder first thing in the morning. I know it's not Miles but I've caught wind of possible Rebel activity between us and the Georgia Federation."

"Who's in charge?" She asked immediately. "Because if it's Neville-"

He raised his hand to silence her. "Tom Neville is on his was to Illinois as we speak."

"As long as he's not around I'll go." Charlie decided. "I won't be leaving Pennsylvania but I'll get to leave Philly at least. We leave at first light?"

"Yes." Monroe began gathering up the scattered papers. "And Charlie, be careful."

She nodded. "See you tomorrow night." Charlie said over her shoulder and passed back through the doors.


	2. Paralyzed

**Charlotte Matheson:**

It helped, getting away from the city. Surrounded by the trees and sounds of horses brought Charlie a sense of calmness she hadn't felt in weeks.

The unit she rode with consisted of both males and females and many of them were around her age. One of the girls spoke with Charlie most of the way through the Militia territory. Her name was Tessa and was pleasant to talk to. She was new, fresh out of recruitment and seemed to have no idea who Charlie was.

It was a nice change for her, since most Militia members in Philadelphia did not like her. Charlie attributed it to the fact that they must see her as someone who got special treatment for no identifiable reason. There were rumors that she was the General's long lost daughter while others thought she was a some sort of mistress for him.

The last thought made her stomach churn. Those rumors were the worst.

As the group approached the stretch of land that stood between them and the boarder, all conversations stopped. They were close to the buffer zone, which was no place to draw attention to oneself.

They were lead by Captain Nelson, a sturdy looking man in what Charlie assumed was his late forties. He was nice enough, strict and followed every rule but he wasn't entitled or out to make a name for himself. The man hardly bat an eye when Charlie had shown up at their camp in the morning.

He had the group of eleven militia soldiers and Charlie, slow to a walk. The area they were in had become heavily wooded and obscured.

"We leave the horses here." He commanded, gesturing to two large fallen trees. "Michaelson, I'll be accompanying your group towards the East."

A tall man with blonde hair nodded curtly and began addressing half of the group.

"Peters, you take Charlie with your group to the West." Nelson slid down from his horse and secured it to the nearest tree. "We meet back here at sunset. Remember, we're not here to start a fight. We're only here to gather intel. Personally, I plan to be back in Philly by nightfall."

Choruses of 'yes sir's echoed around Charlie as she tied her own horse to the tree. "Be back soon." She murmured to the stallion then turned to join her group.

There were five of them if she didn't count herself and she was glad to see that Tessa was among them.

"Don't forget formation." Peters told them. He was a tall man, only a few years older than Charlie and carried himself with authority. "Keep your distance from each other but make sure we're in line of sight."

He spoke mostly to Charlie who stared back at him silently. Monroe had taught her Militia tactics and procedures. She knew how group scout missions worked but decided it was best to play nice for now.

"Alright." He said once he was finished. "Let's go."

They were looking for any camps or signs of life beyond that of animals. The Rebels had grown in numbers recently and had, in a few cases, done quite a bit of damage. Charlie tried not to think too politically about things but she didn't understand what these people were expecting to achieve. The Monroe Republic was a just, strong system of protection and regulation as far as she had seen and the anarchy the Rebels sought seemed like complete and utter foolishness to her.

So, when the group of men emerged from the trees, surrounding their half of the scouting party, Charlie had no problem fighting back.

At first the fighting went as one would expect. Swords were drawn, guns fired and arrows whizzed overhead. The Rebels had them out numbered but Charlie was confident in the abilities of the group she was with. They were excellent fighters and when it came down to killing in order to survive, Charlie hardly reacted at all.

She injured as many as she could but at some point during the cries of conflict she realized that they wouldn't stop coming. Wave after wave of men rushed through the trees, screaming and shouting at them. When Charlie glanced around, spotting one of her comrades on the ground she knew the swing of her sword had to land more permanent hits.

Peters was still standing after what she thought was the fourth wave of Rebels. He went in for the ones using guns, disarming them quickly and skillfully. Tessa and a guy they called Ej remained on a slight ridge above the fighting. There they took aim at the enemies with their rifles, offering what support they could.

Charlie didn't understand where they were all coming from but she never lost grip on her sword. She spun, slashed and stabbed left and right until the sweat that covered her body was covered with blood.

"There's no end to them!" A solider named Thomas shouted.

Peters grimaced as he sliced through another Rebel. "We have to retreat back to the horses!"

Charlie backed away from the treeline the Rebels had been bursting from, hand tight on her blade. She glanced at Peters as she retreated. "Tessa and-"

A shot ripped through the trees and Peters head exploded.

A gasp tore through her throat but before she had a chance to react another shot tore through the air.

Thomas collapsed to the ground beside their leader, his face in pieces.

"Charlie!" Tessa's voice called frantically from the ridge above.

She stared at the red that bloomed in the grass beneath their heads with disbelief.

"Get out of there!" Ej cried down to her.

Jumping out of her stupor, Charlie raced towards the ridge. "Tessa!" She shouted. "Cover me-"

The sound of a gun exploded for the third time and she heard something whiz just past her head. There was a sickening **splat** from the ridge above and Charlie stumbled to a halt as Tessa's body rolled down towards her.

Another shot.

Charlie threw herself to the ground, panting wildly. Everyone around her was dead. Lifting her head just enough she could see Ej's lifeless hand sticking out of the bushes above. She closed her eyes, wishing the images of the others away.

Who would do this? Why would they do this? They hadn't come here to fight or to kill.

There was silence all around her now. Even the birds and bugs had gone quiet. She didn't dare move and wondered where the second scout group was. Surely they had heard the shots and were coming to help them.

 _Help me._ Charlie reminded herself. _I'm the only one left..._

"Well lookie here!"

She jolted on the ground at the sound of a mans voice above her. Charlie opened her eyes just in time to see a boot come crashing down on her right hand. Her cry of pain startled her and the hilt of her sword slip through her fingers.

"This Militia whore had the galls to survive!" Large hands hauled her to her feet and Charlie stumbled, dizzied by the sudden motion.

The first person she noticed was a skinny wiry man who stood right in front of her. "She doesn't look like Militia." He said in a thin voice.

The man who held her yanked on her arm and pulled up the sleeve of her leather coat. "No brand." He mused.

"But she wears our mens blood." The wiry man noted.

Charlie scanned the group around her, trying to stay calm. There were eight? men staggered about, all looking at her with varying degrees of hatred or disgust.

 _I could say the same._ She thought in a daze.

"Let's bring her back to base." She had a hard time figuring out who spoke now. "Any information is better than none."

An intense jab of fear rippled through her chest. Information. Information meant torture. Charlie struggled in the mans grasp. Desperation overcame her and she fought as hard as she could, kicking, and twisting.

She felt heat gather along her spine as the men laughed at her. Anger pulsed through her body and Charlie let out a shout of rage and a string of expletives.

"Shut her up already!" Someone shouted.

The man released her left arm and Charlie wrenched her hand away in hopes of hitting him.

Instead everything went black.

**~ ~ ~**

There was no way to tell how much time had passed. Part of her wondered if any had passed at all, and that maybe she was still laying face down in the woods.

Something covered her eyes, clinging to the sweat and blood that coated her face. Her arms were bound individually to the arms of a metal chair as were her feet to its legs. Nothing covered her mouth and she could hear just fine. Charlie focused on that.

Liquid dripped onto what she assumed was a stone floor. Her feet were bare, cold and damp so she figured it was probably water. With a quick flash of anxiety, Charlie wondered if they had taken her somewhere along the Delaware River. If they had, she wasn't sure if she could find her way back to Philadelphia from this far East.

 _If_ she managed to escape.

The sound of metal grating on metal made her jump. Footsteps approached her steadily and Charlie braced herself.

The blindfold fell away from her eyes to reveal the wiry man from the woods. "I knew you had to be awake." He said with no inflection in his thin voice.

She blinked, taking in the room. It was dim and lofty. The walls were cement and a metal cage-like door stood in place of the entire wall in front of her. Beyond the metal door was a set of stone steps to the left and a man made hole to the right plunged into darkness. Ivy leaves hung from the ceiling where she noticed old light bulbs that of course, offered no light. Three torches burned on the wall to her right, just above a long metal table.

She looked at the table once before looking sharply away. Instruments sharp and blunt alike covered the surface. Charlie had no desire to see how many options this man had.

"Who are you?" Her voice was rough and echoed sightly.

The man paused whatever he was doing to look at her. "I'm a doctor." He said simply.

This information gave her no reconciliation. All that it meant was that he knew how to make people hurt better than anyone else.

"What I would like to know is who you are and what you were doing fighting alongside the Militia in the woods." Something clattered gently on the table as he spoke.

Charlie tensed and stared straight ahead. "I was lost. The Militia was helping me."

"Hmm." The doctor hummed lightly. "That's too easy I'm afraid."

Something cold pressed against her shoulder and she shivered, realizing she no longer wore her coat.

"There are a series of points in the human body that when punctured can result in excruciating pain."

Her heart began to hammer in her chest.

"The result of the placements of nerves."

The coolness vanished from her shoulder briefly and then plunged into her skin.

He drove a needle down into her shoulder and her entire arm spasmed. Pain burst down into her fingers and climbed it's way across her chest. Charlie felt her scream more than she heard it, and felt paralyzed as long as the needle stayed in her shoulder.

"It makes for a clean torture to begin with." The man said calmly. maintaining his original volume despite the cries.

Her body relaxed instantly when he removed the needle, the pain subsiding to a dull throb.

"Let's try this again, shall we?"

Charlie glared at the man.

"What is your name?" He asked politely.

Her thoughts scrambled back to the woods. Tessa had called it out so there was a high chance this man already knew.

"Charlie." She breathed.

His brows raised although his expression didn't change. "There aren't many girls out there named Charlie. Is it short for something else?"

She shook her head. "Just Charlie."

The needle drove into her shoulder again. Longer than before. When he finally removed it she felt tingling between her shoulder blades.

"Charlotte." She said instantly.

The doctor stared at her expectantly.

Charlie closed her lips tightly. If the Rebels discovered her last name they would probably kill her outright. They had no reason to like Miles Matheson even with the news of his betrayal to the Republic. He was still just as bad as Monroe in their eyes.

"Matthews." She closed her eyes briefly. "Charlotte Matthews." _Keep it as close to the truth as possible._

"Charlotte Matthews." The doctor repeated, as if testing how the names sounded together. "Alright Charlotte Matthews. What were you doing with the Militia?"

The tingling sensation crept from her shoulder blades and down her spine, making her dizzy. Charlie pried open her eyes to the dull room. "I rode with them from Philly to join them on a scouting mission." The group was all dead now.

"A scouting mission?"

"For Rebels." She managed. "We were looking for any signs of a base or camp."

"I see." The man turned back to the metal table. "And why would the Militia allow a civilian to accompany them on a scouting mission?"

Her lips pressed together once more. The last thing she wanted was to tell them that Sebastian Monroe himself had sent her. They would think she was some sort of asset, or spy that was worth getting every bit of information out of.

"It appears that my initial approach to persuading you to talk is not as effective as I hoped." The wiry man picked up something new from the table but Charlie didn't try to see what. "Let's try this, shall we?"

He rose from a chair she hadn't cared to noticed he'd been sitting in and stood behind her. Forcing her head down the doctor pulled her hair aside and quickly injected something in the base of her neck.

Freed from his grasp, Charlie raised her head and shook it. The room didn't blur and she felt no sense of confusion. She knew of drugs of course but had always known them to be obscure and not very easy to obtain.

"Did you make it?" She wondered aloud.

The man sat back into the chair beside her. "I did, in fact."

"How?"

"Why did the Militia allow you to accompany them to the border?"

Charlie risked a glance at him. He looked patient and confident. She took stock of herself. Her neck was throbbing, along with her shoulder. The tingling sensation hadn't faded from her spine but in addition to that she felt stiffness beginning to wash over her body.

"What did you give me?" She demanded.

"A paralytic." He told her. "It will paralyze you from the neck down to avoid struggling while also allowing you to still answer my questions."

Her heart skipped a beat. Who was this guy? She had never heard that the Rebels tortured anyone. Of course it was naive to think they didn't have some method of gathering information from Militia members but something this sophisticated seemed unlikely.

"It should be finished spreading now." The man said to her and picked up a knife from the table.

Charlie gasped, trying in vain to shrink away from him but her body wouldn't respond. She could still feel the chill of water on her feet and the throb of pain down her arm but couldn't move. She watched with wide eyes at the doctor dragged the blade over the top of her forearm, cutting into her flesh.

"Now I need you to start telling me the truth and all of it." He warned, scraping the blade across her arm again. "Who are you?"

She grunted with pain, unable to look away from her lifeless arm. None of this made sense. There were too many men, too many of them died.

"I-I told you. Charlie Mathe..Matthe- Mathes-" She shook her head, focusing on the sensation racing down her spine. The tingling felt more like burning now, a growing heat that demanded release.

He dragged the knife across her flesh once more and she cried out.

"Matthews! My name is-" Her head jerked to the side as it was struck and Charlie spat blood onto the floor. "You want my name?" She said slowly, staring at the damp floor. "You want to know who you're dealing with?" Charlie twisted her head back up carefully and leaned towards the thin doctor. "It's Monroe." She lied, hoping to scare him. "My name is Charlotte Monroe. I went with the Militia because I _wanted_ to. Because they _couldn't tell me no_."

The man stared, an expression finally showing on his face. Surprise. He looked dumbstruck, completely caught off guard by this supposed revelation and Charlie knew that for some reason, he believed her.

She thought that maybe she had won. Maybe he was too afraid to keep hurting her if he believed she was related to General Monroe.

Instead, he plunged the knife into her stomach.

Charlie gasped, her body frozen but burning on the inside. There was supposed to be a physical reaction as a response but her body couldn't move. She looked down at the hilt sticking out of her stomach, watching her shirt grow dark with blood.

She sensed the doctor sitting next to her but that was all. Her focus went to the burning inside her that radiated from her spine. It rippled outwards, all the way to her fingers, toes and scalp. It burned more than the knife in her stomach did.

She began shaking, limbs trembling against the metal chair. A loud humming sound filled her ears, louder than anything Charlie had ever heard. It grew and grew until it rang with as much intensity as the fire inside her.

The doctor jumped to his feet and ran towards the metal door but it did not open. His eyes were glued to the ceiling with horrified awe but Charlie had no chance to see what he saw.

She felt it bursting against her skin, the heat and anger and fear. It raced through her nerves, bringing life back into her body as she shook. It reached a point where it was too painful to bear and Charlie released the building screams.

Through the humming she could hardly hear them and the room flickered in and out of darkness. She closed her eyes, wishing frantically for the heat to leave her, to find some other host to burn. The screams continued and then her body shuddered, falling limp against the cold chair. The heat burst from her, filling the room with it's buzzing energy.

When Charlie opened her eyes the torches burned low and the ropes that had tied her to the chair were nothing but ash. She breathed unevenly, her eyes staring at her right arm. Though still coated with blood she saw no trace of any cuts. Flicking her eyes to a shape on the floor she noticed the knife that had stabbed her. It lay smoking on the ground and no ache remained in her torso.

What truly startled her though was the doctor. He laid stiff on the ground, his hair sticking up in charred sections. His skin was blistered and in some places black. His eyes stared blankly at the ceiling.

She felt her body shake once more at the sight and then she threw up.


	3. Captives

**Charlotte Matheson:**

She couldn't find her shoes. Her jacket had been thrown over one side of the metal table and she slipped it back on but her boots were nowhere in sight. 

Charlie carefully bent down, picking up the knife that should have killed her. It glistened red with her blood and she clutched it tightly. She was anxious to leave the dark room and it's motionless occupant. 

The door was open, Charlie pulled the metal grate aside and made her way up the steps. She clung to the wall, expecting someone to come upon her any moment. The passage veered up to the left and into an enclosed stairway. It was only a short distance to the top and sunlight shone down on her. 

The second body she came across had blood dripping from the ears. Charlie watched the man cautiously before quickly stepping over him. She wasn't sure what had happened but she wasn't going to worry about it now. 

_Just get out of here ._ She told herself but her thoughts ground to a halt when she emerged into the room above.

The knife hilt dug into her palm as she involuntarily tightened her grip. The men from the woods lay scattered across the room completely still. Her eyes jumped to each of them, searching for signs of life. All she saw were bloody faces and charred skin. 

"What the hell?" She gasped.

There was a door straight ahead beneath large lofty windows. Charlie moved around and over the bodies slowly, staring at each one as she passed. There were no signs of bullet or sword wounds. There was no fire in sight. 

Breathing heavily, she pushed open the metal door. Sunset caressed her face and fresh air filled her lungs. Eager to be free of the building at it's bodies Charlie stepped back out into the woods but suddenly collapsed to the ground.

When she was satisfied that she hadn't accidentally cut herself from the fall Charlie turned to see what she had fallen over. Scrambling over dirt and twigs she backed away from the sight, her heart pounding. An entire unit of Militia men lay dead in the leaves exactly like the men in the building. 

She had seen dead bodies. She had just killed many men herself but this was something different. There was something so clearly wrong and unexplainable here. A chill raced down her back and Charlie clambered to her feet, paying no attention to the harsh ground beneath them. She backed away into the trees, body and mind aching. She tossed a single glance up at the sky, turned and ran.

**Sebastian Monroe:**

He was beginning to worry. He should have received a status report hours ago but no word had made it's way to his office. 

The sun had set beneath the horizon and darkness was growing over Pennsylvania. Monroe rose from his desk and paced along the back wall of his office. He considered that maybe he had miscalculated the situation when a knock sounded on the door.

"Come in." He called, coming to a standstill. 

"General." The man saluted and entered quickly, leaving the door open behind him. 

Monroe stared at the young man expectantly. "What is it?!" He demanded, his patience already thin. 

The man nodded curtly. "The girl. City patrol found her unconscious on the back of the horse she left with today."

 _Finally_ , some news. "Where is she now?" 

"She- she was covered in blood sir..."

Monroe took a breath. " _Where_ is she Private?"

The solider- if he could be called that- jumped. "They brought her here sir, to the doctor."

Hearing enough, Monroe headed for the door. "Dismissed Private." He ordered, not bothering to wait for the man to exit the office.

The Militia unit should have been with her when she returned. An uneasy worry crept over Monroe while he headed for the doctor's quarters. He hadn't underestimated the situation had he?

"Ah General. I was expecting you." Doctor Simon said as Monroe walked in.

Charlie was laying on one of the medical cots unconscious and covered with dirt and like the solider said; blood. The Doctor was currently treating her feet, wrapping the cut skin with linen bandages.

"Has she said anything?" He asked, searching for any sign of consciousness. 

Simon shook his head. 

"What happened?" He demanded. "The unit was supposed to-"

"The unit is dead." Simon said, pausing his work to look up at Sebastian. "Along with the men that held her captive."

This information had to sink in. "All of them?" He asked with disbelief. 

The Doctor nodded and gestured to the girl. "She shows signs of torture- blood on her shirt and coat along with obvious signs of fatigue but there are no signs of injury except the cuts on her feet."

"You know what this means?"

"I have an inkling, yes." Simon said.

After months of planning he finally had the breakthrough he needed. "How long until she's conscious?"

Simon studied Charlie emotionlessly, something that made him so good at his job. "I'd say about two days. And then about three more until she's back to full strength again. Whatever she's capable of takes a lot out of her."

Monroe nodded, already planning for the days ahead. "I'll be downstairs. If her condition changes send someone down immediately."

"Yes sir."

Sebastian turned towards the door but the Doctor spoke once more. 

"General? What should we tell the families of the fallen men?"

Monroe paused only briefly. "We'll tell them that their loved ones were ruthlessly slaughtered by the Rebels of course."

"Of course."

"Keep me posted." He reminded and closed the door behind him.

**~ ~ ~**

"Would you like to know what your daughter did today?" He asked, coming down the last of the steps into the old basement. The man on guard saluted him as he passed through the open doorway. 

The large room glowed with candle and torchlight, bouncing shadows off the pale walls and low ceiling. 

"Did she finally realize that you're a two faced lying bastard?" A voice asked back nonchalantly. 

Despite himself Monroe smiled at her response. He spotted the blonde woman, bent over the large device she had been working on for the past six months. She almost blended in among the clutter of spare parts and forgotten items from another time. 

"Unfortunately for you, no." He said, coming to a stop at the opposite side of her work table. 

Without lifting her head she spoke calmly. "Gloating won't make me work any faster."

He studied the machine, trying to make sense of it. "I'm not here to gloat Rachel."

Releasing a tense sigh Rachel set her tools aside and lifted her head. "How can I help you Bass?" She asked with a thin smile.

Monroe shook his head. "I thought you'd never ask."

Rachel watched him with boredom in her blue eyes. "You mentioned Charlie." She said carefully. "Is she okay?"

Even though she built a strong exterior around herself, Monroe could see the worry buried deep beneath it. He finally had what he lacked for years to motivate her. He had known that the moment he told her that he had the girl. 

"I can make Charlotte's stay here comfortable _or_ I can make it significantly less comfortable than yours." Monroe had told her. 

Rachel had started constructing the machine that very day.

"Mmm, I wouldn't say that she's fine." He mused in the present. "She's alive- even though she shouldn't be- and resting as we speak."

The strong exterior cracked. "What did you do to her?"

Monroe raised his brows and circled the table. "You don't seem surprised by what I said."

" _What_ did you do to her?" Rachel repeated, her hand clenched the table edge.

"I'm a lot more interested in what she did to my _men_." He said, coming to her side.

Rachel stiffened and turned slowly to him. "I'm sure your men deserved it." She said with an air of innocence. 

"Did you know what she could do this whole time?"

The boredom slipped back into her eyes. "What exactly did she do?"

A laugh of exasperation slipped past his lips and he turned away from her. "Come on Rachel! I thought we were past these little games!"

"I'm not playing any-"

He spun, anger coursing through him. "Yes you are!" Monroe shouted, slamming his hands on the table. "Have you forgotten who you're talking to?!"

She flinched at his outburst. "How could I?" She seethed, her own volume rising. "You've kept me here for years Bass. You killed my husband, kidnapped my daughter and brainwashed her into believing every damn word you say!"

Reining in his anger, Monroe stalked towards her. "And _now_ I need to know how to _control_ her power."

She stared up at him, her blue eyes unforgiving and hateful. At last she laughed and shook her head. "You don't." She said slowly. "I'm serious Bass, you _don't_. I don't even know how. It was never supposed to be active but-"

"But?"

Rachel searched his eyes, for what he didn't know but whatever she saw compelled her to answer. "But...the Blackout must have short circuited it somehow, changing the way it functions."

"It controls the nano tech doesn't it?" Monroe asked tensely. 

She pressed her lips together tightly and said nothing.

"Rachel..." He stepped closer to her and brushed her hair aside. "Do you want things to get messy down here?" He whispered to her.

She shivered and tilted her head away, the boredom in her eyes stronger than ever. 

"If you don't help me," Monroe said slowly. "I'll let the Doctor start cutting Charlotte open and fish around inside until he finds I want."

A shaky breath escaped her. "The computer is programmed to be active only while it's in a host." She began and turned slowly to face him. "It's programmed to operate only within Charlie's biology."

He listened for a lie or any of the half truths she loved to tell him. "You're telling me it doesn't work unless it's in Charlie?"

She nodded slowly and stepped away from him, turning back towards the machine. "I programmed it to-"

Monroe stepped forward again, looming behind her. "Could you reprogram it?"

Rachel looked at him incredulously. "With what?" She snapped. 

"You'll think of something." He told her with confidence. "Because if you don't I'll cut out the device from Charlotte myself, removing your daughter from the equation completely."

"Bass-"

"You have eight days!" He announced, heading back to the steps. "If you want your daughter to live, have a solution by the time I get back."

**Miles Matheson:**

"Miles."

"Hey Miles."

"Miles!"

His eyes snapped open, his hand reaching for his sword. "What? What's going on?" He blinked, looking around the small cabin for signs of danger.

"Nora's here." Danny said, eyeing him apprehensively. 

Miles sighed and rose to his feet. He spotted the flask on a table he had left it on the night before and bent to take it but Danny beat him to it. 

"You've had enough." His nephew said, holding the flask far away from him.

"Really kid?" He said, reaching a hand out. "Give it to me."

Danny shook his head. "It's going to kill you!"

Miles laughed at the thought. "Alcohol poisoning is the least of my worries."

"That's not what I mean." He argued. "You're going to be too drunk to hold a sword the next time we get into a fight and you're going to get killed!"

He sighed. "Danny-"

"Listen to the kid Miles." Nora said suddenly, kicking the old wooden door open. "If not for the sake of your own life, at least do it for his."

Miles blinked in the bright sunlight that poured into their current hideout. He chose to ignore her comment, leaving his conflicting emotions buried deep. "I thought you weren't coming back." He said. "The Rebels needed your help."

She nodded and leaned against the open door. "They did. And I wasn't but I saw something that you two need to hear about."

He sighed and sat back down on the makeshift bed. "Alright, what do have for us?"

Nora glanced at Danny before starting. "There's a small Rebel camp between Philadelphia and the border."

Miles held up a hand. "The Rebels have a base a stones throw away from Philly?" 

She rolled her eyes. "It's not what you think, and their not a group of idiots either."

"I didn't say that they were."

"You didn't have to." Nora said, crossing her arms.

Danny shook his head. "Can the two of you get along for just one moment please?"

She nodded but kept a steady glare on Miles. "They don't initiate any sort of contact or interaction. They observe the city guard and outer patrol, gathering information on the Militia from a _distance_."

"Thrilling."

"Miles." Danny hissed with a glare of his own. 

"You know, the Rebels have a good chance of overthrowing the Republic. It won't kill you to show some suppor-"

Danny jumped to his feet. "Nora!"

"Alright." She grumbled. "Fine. I met up with the group and on my way back to Ohio I heard fighting in the woods."

Miles sat up straighter, finally intrigued. 

"I slowed down, made my way towards it and found a scout group of Militia soldiers fighting off what looked like Rebels."

"What do you mean, 'looked like'?" Danny asked before Miles could.

Nora shrugged. "They weren't any men I recognized and there were too many of them in one group. Rebels travel in small clusters to avoid drawing attention to themselves."

"How many?" Miles asked, considering the possibilities. 

"About thirty or so." Nora said. "And they were all focused on the scouting party."

Miles frowned. "What does this have to do with us?"

Nora glanced at Danny with worry this time. "Your sister, she has blonde hair right?"

He nodded. "Yeah, like mine but a bit darker. And- and wavy too."

"I saw her there."

A spark of relief flickered in Miles's chest.

"You saw Charlie!? How was she? Is-is she okay?" Danny spoke as though he couldn't talk fast enough, his eyes wide.

"She was fighting with the Militia." Nora told them. 

Miles stood up. "Wait what? She's apart of some fringe Rebel group now?"

"No Miles." She sighed. "We was fighting _alongside_ the Militia."

"What?!" Danny exclaimed.

Miles's mind raced. "Hang on." He told him. "Was she in uniform?"

Nora shook her head. "And there's something else."

"Great." He muttered. 

"Did your sister know how to sword fight when the Militia took her?"

Confusion washed over Danny's face. "No. No she only ever used a crossbow before."

Nora glanced at Miles with understanding. "Well she was swinging a sword around and she's damn good at it."

A multitude of possibilities flashed through Miles head and he cursed. 

Danny looked between them. "What is it?"

"Bass you son of a bitch." Miles swore, kicking the old wooden table aside.

"What's wrong?!"

Miles spun on his nephew, exasperated. "Can't you figure it out? Monroe has convinced her to trust him. He's made her believe he's the good guy here!"

Danny frowned, the concept still beyond his grasp. "Why? Because she can sword fight?"

Miles looked at Nora.

"The technique matches yours and what I've seen Monroe use." She said unhappily. 

"You mean-"

"He's been teaching her Militia life but keeping her separate from it to keep her close." Miles said, interrupting. "He wants something from her. It's the only reason she's still alive."

"What does he want from her?" Danny asked, pacing around the tiny room. "What could she possibly know?!"

"I don't know Danny!" Miles shouted, despite himself. "Monroe wasn't exactly forthcoming about all his plans when I left him to die."

"So...all this time, he hasn't been hurting her?" His nephew muttered.

Miles scoffed. "Manipulating her like this isn't any better."

Danny looked at him harshly.

"Well it isn't!" He insisted, throwing his arms wide. "It's going to make getting her back that much harder! She doesn't think she needs saving. Monroe has probably twisted things around so she hates my guts as well."

"She doesn't even know you!"

"That doesn't matter!" Miles said. " _First_ rule of getting someone on your side is to have a common enemy. There's no one Monroe hates more than me right now and it wouldn't be all that difficult to get Charlie to feel the same."

The two men stared at each other, both breathing heavily. After a moment Danny turned away and kicked one of the broken table legs. "So what do we do now?"

Miles shrugged. "We know for sure she's in Philly and that this isn't going to be a simple snatch and grab."

Nora snorted. "Like it ever was before."

"Thank you Nora, for the confidence." Miles shot back. "Will you be sticking around to help?"

"Please Nora." Danny said. "We need all the help we can get." 

She shifted uncomfortably but Miles already knew her answer. 

"I'll help you." Nora said. "But only because you'd both die without me."

"You just couldn't have that on your conscience could you?" Miles asked with a wry grin. 

"Watch it." She warned with a smile of her own. "It's time we make a plan to save this niece of yours."


End file.
